


Seeking for Truth (and a drink)

by DancingCrow



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comedy, Drama, F/F, Orientation Play, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingCrow/pseuds/DancingCrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraught with uncertainty, Cassandra turns to the Book of Secrets in hope for an answer to a personal dilemma. And when that proved to be of no use, she turns to something completely different...</p>
<p>Entry for the Wintersend Exchange</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking for Truth (and a drink)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cosmogyral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogyral/gifts).



Cassandra scoffed.  
  
As her long fingers deftly pushed aside page after page, her sharp eyes scanned for a paragraph or even a quote that could give her the answer she sought. Having been at this for… Maker knows how long, fatigue and frustration were starting to kick in. With a tome as detailed and as revered as the Book of Secrets, one would think they would have even a small portion within that spoke of what a Lord Seeker must do if any doubt was in their heart. And yet so far… she found nothing.  
  
Pushing the tome back a little, Cassandra leaned back into her seat and rested an elbow on one of the arms; two fingers drawn to reach up to her brow, rubbing it gently as she closed her eyes. Ever since she had retrieved the book from Lord Seeker Lucius, it had provided her with more troubling questions than strong answers.  
  
The Seekers had been a part of the Chantry’s history for decades, born from the Inquisition of old just as the Templars were. But even in that length of time, the Chantry and its faithful were still fraught with troubles and turbulences. The solutions they made only provided a temporary relief, before more problems arose.

“Hahhhhh…” she sighed slumping into her chair, both hands covering her eyes as she wrecked her brain for answers. Migraines seemed to serve as the alternative to thoughts, and only served to make her scoff once again.

Shutting the book and gently pushing it further away from her, she slumped into her chair and grumbled to herself. The frustration wasn’t helping, and seemed to urge on the need to bang her head against her desk. She knew better than that, though… better to just give one of the desk legs a boot.  
  
It squeaked on impact, but didn’t seem to give any other response. Well, save for the sound of a bottle dropping inside one of the desk cabinets, rolling about on its glass surface. Staring at the cabinet for a short moment, she would lean over and fiddle with the lock on it.

Pulling it open to reveal a long bottle inside, its contents still slightly filled up and its texture looking drinkable enough, she once again leaned back and sighed deeply.  She remembered how she got this bottle… a gift from Dorian, something to crack open to celebrate the day they finally defeat Coryphyus. But as the weeks rolled by, it was clear that day wasn’t going to come soon. And that bottle was getting distracting every time she glanced at her desk, and every time it would rattle inside.

“To hell with it…” she grumbled softly, leaning down to reach for it. She sat the bottle on her desk and leaned back into her seat. Drinking… wasn’t something she would do. Part of it was how much the Chantry sisters of her childhood and tutorship into the Seekers would condemn it, saying it lead to folly and boorish attitudes that would make Andraste herself frown. The other part was of course the number of lecherous drunks the Pentaghast family had, how they disgusted her, and the slight paranoia of having the same weakness for booze as some of her bloodline had. Though at times, she’d have a single drink if only to celebrate something but that was as much as she would allow herself. She had never… drink to get her frustrations out. Swordplay was better for that, but her muscles ached from too much practice. This… seemed like the only other option she had.  
  
“…Just one.” She concluded to herself, snapping the lid off and reaching for a small, empty cup nesting in the same desk draw as the bottle was. “One drink, and then I’ll try again…”

 

* * *

  


Leliana pressed her ear against the door before knocking on it, a trick she picked up in case she was entering somewhere alone. The slightest reaction, from a gasp to a hushed curse, was enough to tell of the situation inside. This time… it was a low mumble. Slurred as well. Leliana narrowed her eyes, unsure of how to address such a sound. Regardless, she gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.  
  
Cassandra was slumped over her desk, cheek resting on the Book of Secrets as she was bent over. This… wasn’t something she would see Cassandra do often, if at all. And to her right side, Leliana could see the culprit behind such an odd mood: an opened bottle of ale, that didn’t even seem to have been drained much.  
  
“Well… this is rather unexpected of you… and rather shameless.” Leliana commented, strolling towards her. “Though I am wondering why you’re suddenly drinking alone.” She turned and sat on her desk, looking down as Cassandra lifted her head a little to rest her chin on the tome. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes tired, and her hair a little messy. She indeed looked quite inebriated. “Be honest, just how much did you actually drink?” Leliana asked, picking up the bottle to examine it.  
  
“Mnnnnggggrhhh… two… maybe ffrhree cups…” she slurred. She frowned as Leliana chuckled at her response. “Whass sho funny?” she growled, though with how much she was slurring it was as intimidating as an old housecat.

“Well, I never thought you were so easy to get drunk. No wonder you only had half a pint when Varric offered a game of cards.” Leliana smirked, “And I thought this stuff was illegal outside Tevinter...”

“It’sh not mine… Durrian got it fer me…”

“Pardon?"

“Durrian!” Cassandra glanced up, all frowns and furrowed brows, her sharp cheeks flushed red. “It wassh a preshent he gave me..!”

“Well, I’m going to have a talk with Dorian over this…” Tossing the bottle up and down in her hand a little, Leliana got off from the table and tapped the bottle against her thigh as she walked around to Cassandra’s side of the desk. “Even liquor as fancy as this shouldn’t be in your office… you can’t imagine how easy it is to poison or drug them, should a spy discover it while rummaging through your desk. Thus, it’s a liability.” And with a flick of her wrist, she tossed it out the window.  
  
“H-hey!” Cassandra protested. “I wassh not down wif that!” Pushing her chair out and attempting to lunge forward to stop her only resulted in falling to the floor. An act that caused Leliana to cross her arms and shake her head.  
  
“Come on… let’s get you sobered up. Then we’ll have a talk about what’s bothering you.” Kneeling down, she tucked her hands underneath Cassandra’s arms and lifted her back on her feet, draping an arm around her shoulder. “Has to be serious…mnngh…if you’re going to drink over it…” She began to move for the door, struggling a little with holding the seeker up.

Cassandra lazily glanced to the redhead as she began to carry her down the corridor. “Wh..why are you sho kind to me, Leliana..?” she mumbled, hopping a little as her legs tried to adjust to their newfound sense of direction, or rather lack of.  
  
“Well, what are friends for?” she smiled, grunting a little after. “Mnnh… Maker, you’re heavy… I should’ve asked Bull to help me do this…”

“You’re… shuch a good fhriend to me, Leliana…” Cassandra blushed.

“Thank you.” 

“Maybe… more than a fhriend…”

“Uhh…I’m sorry..?”

“Hash anyone shaid how beautiful you look..?”

Leliana had stopped moving, halfway through the corridor and in the middle of a small seating space. She turned to look to Cassandra with a puzzled look, only to see she was leaning in a _little bit_ too close to her. “Cassandra-”

“Kissh me…” Cassandra bluntly said, closing her eyes and puckering her lips a little. Leliana’s brows furrowed.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Kissh me.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t even like women.”

“I do now…” She was leaning in closer, her body pushing towards her.

“And… mnngh… you’re heavy!”

“Becaush my heart is heavy in love…”

“What?!”

“I love you, Leliana…”

“You’re drunk!”

“Kissh me…”

“Don’t be ridiculou- Ooooahh!”

Leliana tumbled backwards, landing on her back with Cassandra crashing on top of her. Leaning up against her, rubbing the back of her head as she recovered from her fall, Leliana looked down on her friend with a look of irritation. “Andraste’s mercy..! Even Oghren wasn’t this difficult!” she snapped. Cassandra lifted her head out from her Orlesian friend’s cleavage, staring up at her. “Don’t give me that look! You are already a handfu-“  
  
Leliana’s eyes widened, her cry of shock muffled by her soft, full lips being caught in Cassandra’s thin, strong ones. Leliana soon felt her own cheeks flushing at well. Cassandra was an attractive woman, in an exotic and masculine sense. Her tongue was surprisingly robust and agile as it rolled and flicked around in her mouth. But then again, she was also drunk.  And out of her wits.

“Mrrrgh…” she grumbled, letting her kiss her for a little longer before pushing her off; which resulted in Cassandra simply pressing her face back into her bosoms and start making snoring sounds.

It was Leliana’s turn to scoff now.

 

* * *

  


After a few dunks in the stable troth, a few cups of fresh water and a warm towel, Cassandra seemed to be back to her senses. If the sign of her brooding was any hint of her being sober.

“Haaahhhh… there.” Leliana sighed. “Now are you feeling better..?”

Cassandra shrugged. “I think so… I’m not sure right now…” She sighed, eyes fixated on the cup in her hand. After a long pause, she squinted and looked up. “What… was I doing in the time between my office and the stables? I don’t remember…”

“Better you don’t.” Leliana replied, raising a hand to stop her. “Though on the subject of you drinking… why now, of all times? Has something happened with the Seekers the Inquisitor should know?”

Cassandra shook her head. “Not important for him to know… but it does revolve around the Seekers. It’s… a thought that’s had me troubled for a while.” Leliana tilted her head, concerned and interesting in what it was that kept her friend in melancholy “Which is?” she asked.

“Why should we be relevant? Why should any of the seekers be relevant now? We’re not as well-organised as the Inquisition, nor as stable as we once were. You know how long it took us to push for peace in the Mage-Templar Rebellion. And yet, in the span of a dozen months, the Inquisition of new had ended the Rebellion. In a short matter of time, shorter than the time I and any of the Seekers have spent to broker at the very least a ceasefire between the groups, our efforts were eclipsed by that of the Inquisition.” She looked back up. “You understand what I am saying… yes?”

“I think I do…” Leliana nodded.

“The inquisition does all that I truly wanted to fulfil as a Seeker. And unlike the Seekers, we don’t go so low as to-“ She stopped herself.

“To what?”

Cassandra felt her friend’s hand reach out and touch her own. She looked up to her and sighed. “…so low as to delve in secret, forbidden rituals and shady dealings. We Seekers swear to bring such evils within the Chantry into the light, and yet we hide in the shadows doing the same. It is ironic… poetically ironic.” She paused. “I want… to bring our order’s secrets into the light for the Chantry to see. But… it doesn’t change the fact that I see my order for… for what it has become.” She paused, taking in a heavy sigh.

“We’re a splintered, fossil of an order that has been slow to make achievements but quick to dabble in forbidden arts. Is… this really the legacy I am to inherit? I had hoped… there were Lord Seekers before me who felt the same way. But there is barely any evidence of their existence. It makes me feel that I am the only one who does…”  
  
Leliana nodded carefully, getting a full picture of just what was bothering her now. “Well, there’s nothing you can really do about the Seeker’s hidden history. You’re not willing to hide it, I know, but showing it isn’t going to make things better either.” She paused. “Maybe you should accept the flaws the order has brought with itself. Accept it and let it be known you are old and secretive.”  
  
“But it’s not going to stay that way. I want to change it. I… just don’t see it ever cleansing us of our dark past…”

“Cassandra, listen…” Leliana moved her seat up closer to her friend, and took her hands in hers. Cassandra felt a flush on her cheeks, as if she was slowly recalling what she had done.

“When I became a cloistered sister, I had hoped it would relieve me of my past as a bard. I could become a new me; born again in the Maker’s eye, with nary a thought to a past I wanted none to even imagine with me included. But… it didn’t turn out that way…

“There was a man who passed our cloister, taking a bed for the night. In the morning I was sweeping the halls… and he recognised me. It turned out he was a bard as well, and laughed at how easily I had ‘infiltrated’ the cloister.” She paused, taking a deep sigh. “He mentioned he was on his way to a contract, and offered to split his payment with me if I helped. I was nervous, wrecked with the idea that I was being tempted with sin for the first time…” She looked up into Cassandra’s eyes. “It was a LOT of money…”  
  
“What did you do, then?” Cassandra asked, leaning a little forward in fixation.

“I told him I would think about it… I didn’t accept, and he agreed to stay around for a few more hours. I left that chamber, and I rushed to the revered mother. I told her what had happened, and I begged her to help. Maybe throw him out, or call the guard or the Templars on him. She simply talked to me; asked if I felt ashamed of my past. I told her ‘Of course!’ She then pointed her finger and said ‘Don’t be.’

“I didn’t understand. She knew of my sins, and I had confessed and prayed for forgiveness, serving as a sister to prove I was truly remorseful. Why would she say I should not be ashamed? She answered me, saying: ‘I know what you did, and I know you regret it. And that is enough. But in believing yourself cut off from your past sins is to invite another. You have sinned, and you cannot change it. Only be forgiven for it. To move on with life believing your past sins can never follow you is foolish, for it will bite you should your detractors use them against you. Hold your mistakes close, use them to remind yourself to never fall again, and use it as a starting point to the better years of your life.’

“I never expected that from her… but regardless, I went back to the man and refused his offer; telling him I wanted to… retire. He shrugged and smiled, told me which town he would be staying in should I change my mind. I felt relieved after that… like a weight had been dropped off my body. I didn’t feel I needed to hide what I had done all the time… I still kept it to myself more often, but knowing where I was then and where I am now, I feel a sense of pride… a sense of duty.

“Cassandra, you should try the do the same thing. Let it be known the Seekers  are barely what they once were. And then, you remind them that you will rise from this past, better and stronger than you once were. Let THAT be the new purpose of the Seekers.”

Cassandra leaned back, eyes downcast as she contemplated her friend’s words. “That… makes a little sense. Perhaps I will consider that…”

“You should. What else is there to try?” she smiled, sitting up and bringing a hand down to pat on her shoulder.  “It takes some time, but all good things do.” With a soft smile and a short nod, she gave her shoulder one last past before turning around and heading off.

But not before turning back with a smile on her lips.

“Oh… and I’ll forget about your drunk flirtation, too.” She remarked.

“F…flir…what are you talking about?” Cassandra stammered, sitting up and blinking in disbelief.

“Nothing…” the spymaster smirked, turning back on her way. “Though I will compliment you, for a sheltered Seeker, you’re quite the kisser.” And with a chuckle, she was off.

Cassandra was speechless, mouth agape and hand half-way raised in protest. “Urrrrghh…” she groaned, hunching back on her chair.


End file.
